Wake-Up Calls
by double scotch.single malt
Summary: Lt. Danny Green reflective introspective on 'wake-up calls' and what they've come to mean to him after his return to the Nathan James from the Immunes' compound mission, circa 2x07. Story dissects his relationship with Lt. Kara Foster.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Last Ship, et al.**

 **Wake-Up Calls**

 _D-A-N-I-E-L_

 _An acrostic poem by Lindsay Green_

 _Dedicated_

 _Adventurous_

 _Noble_

 _Idealist_

 _Energetic_

 _Libertarian_

 _###_

Danny stared at the acrostic poem his fourteen-year-old cousin had sent to him before his deployment to the Arctic six months ago. He'd heard no news from his family and with the current state of the world; no news was not good news. Sighing into himself, he tried not to think of Lindsay, young and beautiful ( _on the inside where it counts_ ), his "twin" his family had always said, since the day she was born – _and with her blue eyes and blond tresses, her optimistic spirit and that telltale "Green face"_ – it wasn't a stretch from the truth.

He loved that kid. And she loved him.

Exhaling, he silently repeated each word slowly and succinctly now as he followed the exquisite curves of her best penmanship, once again attempting to get back to him – _this guy, this 'American Hero'_ _version of himself his family had loved so unconditionally_ – and even though he knew, deep down, that this earlier version of himself existed somewhere ( _perhaps on some other plane of existence, in some other space or time_ ), he found it harder and harder to unearth at his core.

And that terrified him. Agitated him more than anything.

 _More than the Immunes. More than contaminated teddy bears (a new catalyst). More than the widespread devastation of the virus. More than the loss of his men … his friends ... his confidants … ghosts. More than Sorensen on the Nathan James. More than failure._

Because, in truth – _if he wasn't who he was at his core anymore_ – his mind went to this darker place where he wondered if Kara would still love him the way she did so fearlessly. Or perhaps even more frightening … would he be capable of being the father he always imagined he would be ( _one day much farther off in the future in an idealistic world somewhere_ ), a father much like his own: a decent, happy, fulfilled, sincere, humble, significant, valued, admirable and chivalrous … dad ( _a haphazard acrostic poem of his own_ ).

Exhaling, he folded the poem up, struck now by his shaking hands as he chanted the words to himself akin to a mantra – _dedicated (fold), adventurous (fold), noble (fold, his heart broke), idealist (fold), energetic (fold), libertarian (fold)_ – and therein, he began to believe in himself again, deep inside those fleeting moments of awareness of all that had happened in the last six months. Six months comprised of polarizing growth _– made of beautiful wonder (falling in love for the first time) and of unspeakable horror (everything else)_ – all told, the days, weeks, months, were nothing more than a chasm now, an abyss of time that had aged and changed him exponentially.

He slipped the poem back into place with a private grimace and fought the urge to get dressed again and head to the gym, work it all out physically – _for that tactic had always worked for him_ – even as a kid, when things got to be too much, he'd go out for a run and come back and everything would seem manageable again ( _he later learned about endorphins_ ). Except that nothing seemed to work – _apart from fleeting moments alone with Kara (kissing her, loving her, holding her, finding the hidden flecks of gold within her eyes)_ – there truly was no escape from the stresses that confounded him … or them, on the Nathan James.

Exhaustion gripped him suddenly then, their mission to the Immunes' compound catching up with him now. And without thinking – _he gave up on the idea of endorphin induced avoidance and slipped into his bunk_ – rolling into the darkness toward the wall, the Navy-issue cotton pillowcase, both soothing and familiar. His eyes shut of their own volition and therein he began his steadfast coaching … his coaxing … his methodical thought-process that somehow lulled him to sleep. For he had realized that the only way to _really_ sleep on the Nathan James at the moment was to own the world's problems, to let his mind wander into the deepest recesses of his subconscious and allow himself to really feel and accept the tempestuous events of their recent history … _both unexpected and the appalling_.

 _Immediately his mind went to the good, the altruistic, his intrinsic idealism forcing its way to the surface wherein he would arrive at this plateau – this Utopian-like place where Kara and their unborn child resided – and everything was pure and simple and clean … and possible._

Curling deeper into his pillow he thought about this woman he found himself connected to from the start – _smiling to himself –_ he realized over and over again that he never had a chance to refute how he felt, for he knew she was the _'one'_. And for whatever reason – _call it fate or destiny or a wake-up call_ – he all of a sudden found that he was ready handle all that came along with being in love with her: the way how she made everything okay with just one look ( _the one she saved for him_ ), the way she kissed him ( _the perfect fit of her mouth against his_ ), the crappy circumstances ( _the secrecy_ ), their deployment ( _the beautiful impetus_ ) … the desire to get home, wherever that was ( _and make it real_ ).

 _And what they say about love making people do crazy things was absolutely true – because the great and dedicated crusader, Lieutenant Danny Green – found himself breaking every rule in the book … just to pursue the gorgeous and talented Lieutenant Kara Foster._

 _And nothing could stop him. Nothing did stop him. Or them._

For he knew very early on that he would go to the end of the earth for this woman and yes, he tried ( _and failed miserably_ ) putting her out of his mind, setting her on a high shelf somewhere to look at and admire, but not to touch. Except that this was also true about love: _it did not discriminate, for it was an overwhelming force all of its own making_. And it was the more subtle things that made Danny a believer ( _in love_ ), chief among them: the ethereal way she viewed the world and the way she looked at him through those same endless gateways ( _especially when she thought no one else was watching_ ).

 _And also by the way she drew him in, captivating him with her all-consuming soulful persona – and by the instinctual way she devoured him when they eventually (and frequently) made love, her tenacious muscles coaxing him deep within her slick, magnificent heat – a heat that belonged uniquely to them … their brand of love … always heady with raw, essential need … always quick and vertical and in some obscure locale (because it had to be) … yet somehow, never perfunctory … always meaningful … always feeling like forever._

Relaxing into the idea of forever with her – _Danny's thoughts circulated around that moment when he realized how much Kara must have loved him back (even after he ordered her to leave him alone)_ – still recalling his shock and awe at finding her at his bedside when he ' _woke up'_ from his bout with Dengue Fever.

 _###_

 _The fog lifted and the first thing he realized was that he'd been medicated, heavily. Puzzled by Kara's manifestation there, he momentarily lost himself in testing his memory – Nicaragua. Monkeys. Hunting. Fever. – all the while he focused on the intensity of her face as she looked off and away (perhaps to some other place in time), her eyes fixed on the medical bay doors – the fluorescent lights casting a short shadow along her round, perfect face wherein he thought he spied the woman she really was at the moment: careworn, anxious, stoic … and on the outskirts of a vortex she wasn't prepared for … and she was gorgeous._

 _And they were alone._

 _He remembered trying to reach for her then, instantly jarred from his contagion, his entire body on fire – his fight or flight instinct in full throttle – his eye sockets weak around the edges, and yet all the pain was somehow mitigated by the simple sight of her … his panacea … his cure all … for everything that had gone so wrong on this mission._

 _He tried speaking instead. "Kara …," his gruff voice cracked into the silence, almost scaring him._

 _Her head whipped around and she gasped. Her glassy eyes pinned to his, her lips twisting in an effort to maintain her composure. Her hand found his forehead where it lingered as she leaned forward and replaced it with her lips (vanilla, cinnamon … home was all he could think) as her hands came to flank his skull where she stared at him with her glorious, wet eyes – green endless pools with those flecks of shimmering, glimmering gold – so close now he could jump right in and forget himself. Everything was quiet save for his heart beating into his ears as her lips moved down to the underside of his neck to his pulse point, where it responded, flickering under her lithe touch._

" _Thank God … Danny …," came her muffled cry, his name hanging in the air between them, her outpouring of emotion so transparent now that he realized that she must have given herself up somehow, ousted … shit, he must have been about to croak!_

 _Instinctively, he raised his hand and set it on her back where he held her in place and let her cry it out, allowing himself to ride it out with her – to feel the liberation of her stress and anxiety – until slowly, her breathing became less labored and more regular wherein her cries diminished and were replaced now by quiet, tender caresses until she finally raised her head, her cheeks flushed and gorgeous with a smile that reached her bloodshot eyes._

" _I love you … Danny …," she declared breathlessly then with a wondrous smile. "You never gave me a chance to tell you … but, I do … and … I need you to know that," she exhaled, delivering on this personal promise she'd likely made to herself._

 _A peculiar source of energy cloaked them in that moment – it was a force of alignment – like everything that was ever missing or unexplained in his life suddenly presented itself or shifted slightly and … it all made sense, like one of life's secrets was revealed to them._

 _Marveling at her, he drew her near, inhaling the familiarity of her essence (vanilla, cinnamon, home). "You didn't give up on me," he sighed, his palm cradling her skull, his eyes searching hers … deeper and deeper still._

" _Never … I'll never give up on you …," she whispered without hesitation_

" _I'm still so in love with you …," he breathed, holding her gaze steady. "You should know I never … stopped …," he exhaled, his eyes dipping shut of their own accord._

" _I know," came her soothing voice._

 _Everything became silent then – their hearts beating in tandem again – their feelings aligned, their myriad of thoughts swirling and swirling around, suspended above them until Danny's eyes popped open, alarm seizing him once again when he realized what must have come unraveled while he was down and out._

" _Danny?" Kara answered his silent plea, her eyes searching. "What is it?" she went on. "Are you in pain? Should I get Doc Rios?" she peppered him with questions._

 _He shook his head, daring himself to ask now, searching the depths of her eyes for something, anything (fear, apprehension, insecurity) – except all he found was her resolve – her calm and fortuitous love. He sighed and resigned himself to the truth._

" _He knows doesn't he?" he asked of the Captain, knowing they'd been discovered somehow._

 _Kara nodded in assent. "Yes," she answered. "I ousted myself," she explained, her eyes vacillating, searching … for what, resentment? "I couldn't help it, Danny …," she whispered her plea. "I didn't even think twice – they had you quarantined, Captain ended up in the lounge, I ran down without thinking," she sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," she whispered sincerely, more tears gathering now._

" _Damn, girl," was all he could say and Kara laughed. "You really love me," he smiled weakly._

 _Kara nodded and leaned, down, pressing her lips to his cheek, her open mouth lingering there for a beat before she whispered in his ear. "I really do."_

 _###_

Smiling to himself in the darkness now, Danny conceded that loving Kara Foster became easier and more transparent thereafter – _and not because they were both enduring the consequences_ – but because the veil of secrecy had been lifted … for one another … and by one another and it was a beautiful thing.

And though Danny wouldn't lie, if it came down to it again, he might have waited to pursue Kara ( _outside the confines of the Navy's strict fraternization policies_ ) because the Captain and XO had been spot on in their assessments that Danny's concern for Kara's safety had compromised his duty to his shipmates and for that, both he and Kara seemed to be tested regularly on just how precarious their situation was.

 _Precarious indeed. Especially when life-threatening situations arose like: vaccination trials and unplanned pregnancies and hostage situations and the latest, infected teddy bears._

 _Infected. Teddy. Bears. His stomach churned. What the hell was the world coming to?_

The door to the cabin opened and Tex slipped inside. He closed the door and Danny rolled to his other side, curious for an update, for Tex was great at a great many things, but his status updates were legendary – _for he was an enigma on the Nathan James_ – a regular guy that somehow ended up at the intersecting point of all factions of the ship's personnel, from the enlisted men and women to officers to executive leadership, Tex was revered … coveted … and necessary.

"Hey, partner," he greeted with his steadfast twang, striding in on his seaworthy legs.

"Hey," Danny greeted, pushing himself up slightly. "How's everything with the President and that bastard Sorensen?" he asked of the ship's confidant. "What did Dr. Scott have to say about those damn teddy bears?" he went on, his blood pressure rising now.

"The President is being debriefed, lots of closed door stuff there, amigo," Tex answered, sitting down on a nearby chair. He looked exhausted Danny decided now as he looked over his friend. "Sorensen is in surgery," he continued. "Let's hope he survives just long enough for them to get whatever they can from him," he added.

"And the teddy bears?" Danny asked gruffly, revulsion rose again and his memory shuttered back to the fear in that kid's eyes when he screamed at her to run away from him – _bear in hand_ – his paternal, protective instincts on heightened overdrive.

"Have you ever seen a woman see red? When something gets her so angry she can't see straight?" Tex snorted, nodding his head with a firm smile. Well, if she didn't hate Niels Sorensen before … there's hate in her eyes now … pure scorn and scowl," he went on. "I wouldn't want to be on the other end of that hate, you know what I'm sayin' compadre?" he concluded, his lips pressed together.

"Yeah …," Danny answered, remembering Niels' zealousness when talking about the stuffed bear and how to use it ( _'you squeeze it'_ ). Danny's skin crawled – _but he stepped forward to take one anyway_ – knowing he'd never let one of those bears get into the hands of an innocent kid. "Has Burk surfaced yet?" he asked then, swiftly changing the subject.

"Nah, you're good, it's been a long couple of days … I did hear Kara was looking for you," Tex smiled, a twinkle reaching his eyes. Danny smiled. Tex stood up. "Might have mentioned you were resting up … in here … _alone_ …," he cackled, heading for the door where he exited the cabin without another word.

 _###_

A smile adhered itself to Danny's face. Hunkering down again he closed his eyes, knowing that his lover would materialize soon – _focusing now on his nerve-endings_ – easing the tension of his synapse junctions, repairing and rejuvenating now. His circular thoughts revolving around Kara and the baby and the idea of just how regular it all began to feel ( _their relationship, their baby_ ), compared with the absolutely frightening beginning they had when her pregnancy came to light.

 _He remembered thinking – 'this isn't happening, this cannot be happening' – when Captain Chandler told him Kara was pregnant. He felt like he was sucker-punched, the wind blown out of him in a dogfight … one between right and wrong._

And so there he stood with this incredible man he admired so much ( _who he'd felt like he let down on a personal level_ ), though true to form the Captain straddled the line, like a true Captain should – _existing on a level that belonged exclusively to those in the club_ – an echelon of insight bestowed upon them with an array of wise and all-seeing things to say lodged in the breast pockets of their uniforms.

Recalling their conversation now, Danny knew that the moment had been a defining one for him … maybe for both of them.

 _###_

 _A gust of wind blew across the deck, the sky was overcast – gray and somber, matching his mood – he exhaled and shook his head, for he had been rendered speechless. Captain Chandler turned and faced the railing, looking out over the expanse of the horizon. Danny exhaled, transfixed by the open water then, temporarily lulled by the whip of the wind and the circular movement of the deep sea, whip, twirl, whip, twirl until his reprieve ended._

" _You don't …," Danny exhaled, whip, twirl. "You don't think she knew, did she?" he wondered then, his verbalized fear floating out and over the ocean now, realizing he'd embarked on a personal conversation with the Captain, one that he – Lieutenant Danny Green (the one his family admired so) – would have never foreseen ... or ever dreamt of._

" _No," Chandler answered, his eyes fixed on the horizon still. "Dr. Scott said Kara couldn't have known – she … I won't lie to you – she's not doing well …," he sighed, delivering the heavy blow._

" _No … what does that mean?" Danny whispered – his heart sank akin to anchor – he steadied himself against the railing, whip, twirl._

" _She had a seizure," Chandler stated evenly then._

 _Danny turned to face the Captain (and the hard truth). "A seizure …," he muttered, his tough exterior disintegrating with the last of his hope now. "Is that a normal symptom?" he wondered, swallowing hard, he felt light-headed. His heart raced._

" _I'm not sure," Chandler answered candidly. "She's stabilized now, though," he explained, setting his hand on Danny's shoulder. "When Dr. Scott ran her blood panels after the seizure, she detected the pregnancy … and … it's new … her guess, four to five weeks," he breathed, his eyes, somehow softer, pinned to Danny's now._

" _It's all … new … so new …," Danny sighed, turning his attention back to the horizon. He shook his head and in that moment, standing right there, he wished he could just save her himself! He felt tears gather but he blinked them away with haste. "I … Sir …," he exhaled, losing his voice, his chest twisting with pain, close enough to a panic attack, only far worse. "I've lost a lot of friends on this mission … a lot of my own team …," he said gruffly, barely able to articulate what these losses meant to him._

" _Yes … you have," Chandler agreed, squeezing Danny's shoulder._

" _I'm … Sir … I'm … a strong person," he ventured carefully. "But … I'll admit … I'm not sure I could come back from losing her," he admitted weakly, suddenly lost at sea – barely strong enough to tread water now, whip, twirl – the reality of their forbidden relationship slapping him in the face now._

 _The filtered sunlight fell along his shoulders and it felt like a … burden. Just another thing to carry. He felt sick. His heart broke. He was lost. Panic-stricken. Kara. His beautiful Kara. Whip, twirl went the wind and the ocean._

" _I'll tell you what I told her when you came down with Dengue Fever…," Chandler said then turning to him._

" _Sir?" Danny asked, tilting his head._

" _I told her … you're one of the best I've ever served with, a natural leader," Chandler went on with authority. "And I'm not just saying this to bolster you up," he explained. "I'm telling you this because it's the God's honest truth – and I'm not sure if you realize how much I trust your judgment – and what you've brought to this mission … it's unmatched … your transgressions with respect to this relationship aside, I still could not trust you more …," he said fervently._

" _Thank you, Sir," Danny answered._

 _Chandler shook his head. "More than enough you've proved to me – Lieutenant Green – that you can handle anything that comes your way," he concluded. "And you're not alone … we'll handle it together … whatever happens …," he counseled._

" _Even this …," Danny wondered somberly._

" _Even this … but … let's not give up hope yet – Dr. Scott, she's the best there is – and she's going to do this … we have to have faith in this part of the process or as Master Chief would put it, 'this part of the journey' …," Chandler declared, likely trying to convince both of them now._

" _I want to believe that, Sir … but I'll admit I feel pretty helpless right now," Danny sighed._

" _I have moments like that too," Chandler offered. "Probably more than you'd realize," he commiserated. "Listen … I'm proud of you, Son," he said then with a tight smile. "Why don't we see if Dr. Scott will allow you to suit up … sit with Kara … if that is something you're up for …," he thought aloud._

" _I am, Sir," he answered (though petrified by what he might face)._

 _###_

 _Later, as he was fitted with a hazmat suit just outside the lab – this durable plastic, airtight chamber – zippered shut, the antechamber outfitted with ultraviolet light sensors used for decontamination … all he could think about was the chaos this virus caused when uncontrolled. Stock images of the corpses he'd seen barreled their way through his mind now, the shutter speed so fast, he could barely keep up – the ashen color of their faces, the angry way the virus erupted with boils, the vacant look of their eyes – their final moments of anguish, frozen on their faces in perpetuity._

 _And the mere thought of losing another person (Kara included) to a death like that – the more he was propelled to act – to not sit idly by, but to own and face those truths and enter that quarantined space and sit with the love of his life while she endured (or perished), because she deserved that … she deserved to know he was in it with her (for now and for all time)._

 _There were only fragmented moments he would come to remember about the vaccine trial from there on out – for everything became blurred and nondescript, like the quarantined area was somehow operating on a different plane of existence – a plane where anything was possible – a place where the elements of great success and catastrophic loss had equal footing … a place governed by … doom … or fate … or destiny._

 _He remembered – the surprise in Kara's eyes when she saw him there – and her understanding when he entered his plea, 'don't you dare leave me'._

 _And …_

 _The way he couldn't feel her skin through his thick latex gloves ('don't leave me')._

 _The slow and steady beep of her heart monitor (she was dying)._

 _Thinking about their baby (placing his reassuring hand on her abdomen)._

 _Reminding himself to breathe (she was dying)._

 _Banishing his melancholy thoughts ('don't leave me')._

 _How beautiful she was despite the virus' claim on her (she was dying)._

 _How soulful her eyes still were, glassy and endless and deep (gold flecks missing)._

 _How defeated he felt (she was dying)._

 _And then … the flurry of activity that ensued with a surge of hope – the catalyst, Dr. Scott's virology breakthrough – a swell of emotion pummeling Danny's heart, a surge of magnificence so great that all he could do was pray and hope and hope and pray ... for some kind of miracle._

 _Yes, he prayed and hoped with all of his might for this brief flicker of time in all of human history to be the moment that would save them all (and her) – a moment where the stars would be aligned – a moment of divine intervention … a moment that would reverse their collective fortune and bring her back to him ('don't leave me')._

 _And then finally … finally, the unbelievable comprehension – that she would indeed survive – written in the stars for all time, the last of Danny's hope (exhausted) and his last prayer (answered) now as he watched the rosy color return to his lover's cheeks while the medical miracle of Dr. Scott's vaccine began working … fulfilling an unwritten prophecy … to heal … to recover … and to cure this formidable woman, his beloved Kara._

 _###_

 _And then later – as she was strong enough to sit up – the absolute shock (horrified, to be frank) look upon her face when he passed her a note in his messy handwriting:_

' _ **You're pregnant. About 5 weeks. I love you. So much.'**_

 _To which she muttered, "I had no idea." Her wide eyes searching his, though she managed to channel a silent, 'I love you, too.'_

" _I know … I know …," he answered her, still holding her hand (latex sucked, though if they had some in the first place maybe they wouldn't be in this position). He smiled broadly at his lame joke._

" _Will … it … be all right?" she wondered, maintaining the cryptic nature of their conversation._

" _I'll find out," he assured, his eyes trained on hers … gorgeous and full of endless possibilities._

 _###_

 _And then much later, a standalone memory – her absolute relief (which mirrored his) at the news that the baby would be born immune – the sound of her happy cry enough to make him fall in love with her all over again._

 _###_

Sighing deep inside some of his more cherished memories now, Danny began to drift asleep, his thoughts centralizing on their miracle baby, this surprise gift of life and longevity – _this unborn survivor of dehydration in the middle of the ocean, virus vaccination trials_ _and the stress of Dr. Hamada's threats_ – and the more he thought about this little survivor, the more he thought about fate and destiny and that maybe it was just meant to be this way for them, that maybe they ( _he and Kara_ ) were tested in this beautiful and horrifying way to solidify what they meant to one another … for all time.

And as he ruminated and drifted further into his subconscious, his thoughts circulated back to his beloved cousin Lindsay and the words she used to describe him ( _Daniel, his given name_ ): _Dedicated, Adventurous, Noble, Idealist, Energetic and Libertarian._ And therein, he realized he had a lot to live up to for this strong and powerful baby of theirs and that maybe, after everything they had ensured to date, he really was there – _this guy, this 'American Hero'_ _version of himself his family had loved so unconditionally –_ yes … he was still there where it mattered most, in spirit.

 _###_

Later, a muffled knock roused Danny from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes and spied Kara standing just inside the cabin – _her face pink with a healthy glow_ – her eyes dancing with happiness … a sight for sore eyes. Without a singular thought, he swung his legs around, got out of bed and crossed the room, tucking her deep inside the envelope of his arms where he held her in place for a long while.

"Hi," he whispered, pulling back, her eyes dancing as he swayed with her in his arms.

"Hi," she sighed, matching his tempo. "Kiss me …," she breathed and so he did – _soft and sweet, pulsing his lips against hers_ – eyes closed, the world falling away now until all that remained was their brand of heat.

Pulling away, Danny pressed his forehead against hers, transfixed by her beyond gorgeous eyes, those specks of brilliant gold he loved so much still there … _sparkling, twinkling, just for him_. "I … I can't live without you," he muttered quickly into their heat.

"Oh, Danny," Kara sighed, holding him close wherein he breathed her in ( _vanilla, cinnamon, home_ ). "It's been a rough couple of days," she exhaled, trying her best to soothe him.

Unwilling to let a moment go by without telling her everything he'd been mulling over, Danny drew her closer, his arms low around her waist now. "It's not just the last couple of days – _or the toxic teddy bears_ – or the baby …," he exhaled, tears popping free, he let them be. "It's about you … and everything you do to me," he laughed through his tears.

 _Kara smiled and leaned up; brushing her thumbs across his the angular planes of his cheeks. Tilting her head, she brushed her lips against his again, pulsing, once, twice for good measure._

"I know," she said against his open mouth. "I can't imagine life without you either …," she intimated softly – _her hot breath ricocheting between them_ – their brand of heat warming them up from the inside out now. "Are we dancing?" she asked, her melodic giggle echoing throughout the chamber.

"Hmm, first time for everything," he muttered, his ions resetting, his heart resting now as he finally felt his nerve-endings snap and release. He rocked her still, his nose pressed into the crease of her neck, the world disappearing now. "I've been wondering something for a while now," he sighed softly, pulling back to meet her gaze. "In Norfolk … you said you didn't know what to call me when you introduced me to your mother …," he smiled, watching her blush.

"Hmmm … I remember …," she sighed, still swaying with him, their tempo, slow, deliberate, like they had all the time in the world.

"How about how I would introduce you to my parents had they survived …," he husked – _his heart twisting now, a sharp pinch, a twinge of regret that never subsided_ – for he'd never heard anything about his family, presumed dead now. Kara drew him closer, his sorrow swaying with them inside the moment now too.

"And what would that be?" Kara whispered, her breathing hitched ( _giving her away_ ), she held his steadfast gaze.

"You're the love of my life …," he answered without hesitating, carefully watching as untapped emotion reached his lover's eyes now.

"Oh Danny …," she sighed, at a loss for words, a small reflexive smile etched along her face. "I am …," she smiled, looking at him the way she always did – _the way no woman had before her_ – or could, since. "I love you … so much," she whispered, her hands cradling his skull now.

"Kara …," he whispered her name now, his hands flanking her round face, her skin so soft – _her complexion so healthy and alive_ – for she had been transformed into a positively radiant pregnant woman. Emotion funneled to the surface, he kissed her perfect fit lips, pulsing his nerve endings over hers … _kiss, kiss, kiss_. "You were my wake-up call … my clarion call …," he husked, holding her close. "My call to realism … you and this baby … you're everything to me," he smiled, leaning in, he brushed his nose against hers, nuzzling her until she laughed.

"And so are you to me," she answered, her eyes so bright and happy, Danny thought she'd never looked so lovely and healthy and fulfilled.

 _And in that moment, the world truly fell away and all that remained was Danny dancing with his beloved Kara, in the middle of the ocean, alone in his cabin (thanks to Tex) on the beautiful and resolute USS Nathan James (the cornerstone of their relationship)._

 _And as he swayed with his love in his arms, he realized that even though they weren't living in some far off place, in some idyllic, Utopian society in an alternate universe somewhere (yet) – the point was … that they were living – and they had each other … to have ... and to hold … from this day forward … …_

"Kara … will you marry me … one day?" he asked suddenly then, his eyes pinned to hers as her tiny gasp of surprise lingered within the tufts of hot air between them.

 _Her soulful eyes all he could see or would remember from this moment … those gorgeous, endless pools of green with trillions of gold floating within … shimmering … glimmering … calming him still like nothing else … until he heard her sweet answer._

" _Yes."_

 **END**


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